Springs Rebirth
by Hariken-sama
Summary: Reincarnation; I considered it to be a myth, make believe, fake, a hoist. What I had not expected was that I would be one of the few people in the world that would be reincarnated; even rarer; I would be the few that would actually remember my past life. Now, with knowledge of the past, I had to decide what I would do with my future. 'Sigh,' so troublesome.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto or any character references mentioned in this story. If I had, I would be rich and no longer be working and drowning myself in books every day.

**Warnings:** There might be some bashing; I don't know for sure yet, but the story is still forming in my mind as I write. Cussing, violence, and death will happen somewhere down the line. This is a Self-Insert story that will turn into an Original Character story. So if you do not like it, well…boo for you, you don't have to read it. I got the inspiration from _Forethought_ by _beemera_, so the first chapter might seem like hers, but it will branch off from her story.

For those that do read this story, I hope you enjoy it and if you have any questions or comments for me, you can review or e-mail me if you like. This is my first story that I have written and I am open for suggestions and criticism; as long as it is not hurtful or demeaning towards myself or others about the story or reviews.

**Summary:** Reincarnation; I considered it to be a myth, make believe, fake, a hoist. What I had not expected was that I would be one of the few people in the world that would be reincarnated; even rarer; I would be the few that would actually remember my past life. Now, with knowledge of the past, I had to decide what I would do with my future. _'Sigh,'_ so troublesome.

**Chapter 00: Reincarnation and Prologue**

_Introduce a little anarchy. Upset the established order, and everything becomes chaos. I'm an agent of chaos. Oh, and you know the thing about chaos? It's fair!_

_The Joker_

The word _"reincarnation_" derives from Latin, literally meaning, _"entering the flesh again"._ The Greek equivalent _"metempsychosis"_ roughly corresponds to the common English phrase _"transmigration of the soul"_ and also usually connotes reincarnation after death; as either human or animal; though emphasizing the continuity of the soul, not the flesh. The term has been used by modern philosophers such as Kurt Gödel and has entered the English language. Another Greek term sometimes used synonymously is _"palingenesis"_ which means _"being born again"_.

The entire universal process that gives rise to the cycle of death and rebirth, governed by karma, is referred to as Samsara while the state one is born into, the individual process of being born or coming into the world in any way, is referred to simply as "birth"_ (jāti)._ Devas (_gods_) may also die and live again.

Here the term "reincarnation" is not strictly applicable, yet Hindu gods are said to have reincarnated: Lord Vishnu is known for his ten incarnations, the Dashavatars. Celtic religion seems to have had reincarnating gods also.

Many Christians regard Jesus as a divine incarnation. Some Christians and Muslims believe he and some prophets may incarnate again. Most Christians, however, believe that Jesus will come again in the Second Coming at the end of the world, although this is not a reincarnation. Some ghulat Shi'a Muslim sects also regard their founders as in some special sense divine incarnations (_hulul_).

Philosophical and religious beliefs regarding the existence or non-existence of an unchanging _"self"_ have a direct bearing on how reincarnation is viewed within a given tradition. The Buddha lived at a time of great philosophical creativity in India when many conceptions of the nature of life and death were proposed. Some were materialist, holding that there was no existence and that the self is annihilated upon death. Others believed in a form of cyclic existence, where a being is born, lives, dies and then is reborn, but in the context of a type of determinism or fatalism in which karma played no role. Others were _"externalists",_ postulating an eternally existent self or soul comparable to that in Judaic monotheism: the ātman survives death and reincarnates as another living being, based on its karmic inheritance. This is the idea that has become dominant (with certain modifications) in modern Hinduism.

The Buddhist concept of reincarnation differs from others in that there is no eternal _"soul", "spirit"_ or _"self"_ but only a "stream of consciousness" that links life with life. The actual process of change from one life to the next is called punarbhava (_Sanskrit_) or punabbhava (_Pāli_), literally "becoming again", or more briefly bhava, _"becoming",_ and some English-speaking Buddhists prefer the term _"rebirth"_ or _"re-becoming"_ to render this term as they take _"reincarnation"_ to imply a fixed entity that is reborn. Popular Jain cosmology and Buddhist cosmology as well as a number of schools of Hinduism posit rebirth in many worlds and in varied forms. In Buddhist tradition the process occurs across five or six realms of existence, including the human, any kind of animal and several types of supernatural being.

These definitions of reincarnation are what the average human being believes in when it regards their main religion and belief in life, death, and after-death. But on the topic of reincarnation; most, if not all people; do not know if whether or not they would be reincarnated after their death. There is no 100% guarantee that if you live a certain way in life that you would be reincarnated on your life choices. A fine example of this would be my reincarnation; my beginning that starts at my end.

_(0)_

**[Melissa Steward]**

Dying hurt. Especially by a car accident.

It had been a normal day at work. I was dragging my feet through the throngs of people I had passed on the way to my office with a large mug of coffee in one hand and a weighty messenger bag in the other.

I had spent the previous night going over facts and evidence about the up and coming murder case I was assigned to for the next day and I had only managed to crash on the sofa and sleep for barely an hour or two. Even with all the makeup piled on my face you could still see the bags I had accumulated seamlessly overnight. If I wasn't so tired I would have been proud of myself for actually making it to the office at eight o'clock sharp in the morning in a somewhat working condition.

I gave half-hearted nods and waves to my co-workers and fellow lawyers, who shot me weird glances, unused to my somber morning mood that I had recently acquired over the past few weeks as more cases came my way.

It turns out that I was not a morning person.

At all.

Who knew?

It took at least two pots of coffee until I was awake enough to hold a somewhat decent conversation in the mornings. And just like flicking a switch, my mood would turn from zombie to hyper. I had heard a few theories – ranging from caffeine overload to satanic possession – that a few of my co-workers had whispered about between themselves. I didn't mind them talking about me like I wasn't there or wouldn't hear anything in the office; because it was an ongoing joke that if I was ever without coffee, I would become demon-like and ruthless and cruel in court. So everyone knew to at least keep me feed on coffee before they approach me for the day.

I was damn good at my job and it showed too by my client list and my overall victories in court. The boss knew it too, which was probably why he put up with my bizarre behavior most of the time, unless the higher-ups came to check everything out; then I had to act somewhat sane and calm. Then he turned into a pseudo-Nazi and everyone was whipped into meek submission, doing everything he asked us to do and doing it quietly and quickly.

Even I knew what buttons to push and what not to do when he was in one of his moods.

I shuffled into my office, stepping over a few scattered boxes filled with files and evidence and slumped into my leather chair. I nudged the power point beneath the desk with my toe to boot up my impressive display of computers spread across the tabletop and continued to sip the sweet nectar of morning energy.

I had been working as a lawyer for ten years now, with '_Heart and Knocks Practice'_. During my last few years of college, I was approached by a representative of the firm and was asked to consider working for them. I was given the deadline of three weeks to think it over and decide on whether or not if I was going to be a part of the firm. So, for three weeks, I thought about the pros and cons of the firm and decided that the pros outweighed the cons considerably and said yes to their offer.

With that, I had finished my degree and with my Master's in hand, began my career at the firm. Just like every other person there, I started at the bottom of the chain and worked my way up to the top vigorously. I spent hours upon hours at the firm with any case I could get my hands on. With five years of doing that, I was soon considered an infallible asset and was welcomed as one of the few partners in the practice. In just eight short years, I was considered one of the top dogs in the firm. It was a good feeling to have.

There was a knock against my door, startling me out of my blank reverie I had seamlessly slipped into. With a slight start of embarrassment, I realized I'd been staring at my log-in page for the past – I glanced at the time – fifteen or so minutes.

Glancing down at my coffee, I realized it had gone cold, _"Fuck!"_ I exclaimed in horror.

I drained it down with a grimace and tossed the cup in the trash beneath my desk before facing Robert, one of my middle aged co-workers who also my partner on the current case.

He gave me a sheepish smile, holding up a rather messily packed cardboard box filled up files. "Hey, Melissa. Do you think you can look over these? It is additional evidence that might out away Keller that we need."

I blinked, sleepy mind sifting through the current non-classified projects floating around the office. "What? I thought Clarissa was working on it with you and that we had everything already done? The case is today, there shouldn't be anything else."

"She is," he said, "But she had to go to New York for a meeting and won't be back until next Monday and the police had just given us the additional evidence earlier this morning."

"Sigh." I didn't have much else to say. "Okay, give it to me. I'll try to find a place where I could fit it in the case." I sighed again and gestured to a rare blank spot on my table. He put the box down with a grateful smile and left.

My hand reached out to pat the usual space I left for my coffee as I started to read the new report, only to groan in realization and looked down. I'd run out of coffee.

My head met the desk with a loud thunk as I groaned.

"It's too early for this shit."

Come six o'clock in the evening, I was riding comfortably in the back seat of an SUV with Robert, smug with satisfaction over the victory of our case, which had been pretty difficult and long until now.

My hand slipped down to touch the locked briefcase resting on the floor at my feet which contained a tough-case laptop and the previous case paperwork.

_~Shudder~_ the horrors of paperwork.

Robert looked over at me and caught my shudder of revulsion and smirked in amusement. It was ongoing joke that I abhorred paperwork and would do almost anything to get out of it.

Robert was about to say something to me when we both heard the screech of tires somewhere near us. Our driver had been apparently not paying enough attention on the road, and was instead messing with the radio, when he noticed too late a small Honda parked on the side of the freeway with its hazards on. With a cry and a jerk of the steering wheel he sped across three lanes of traffic to sideswipe another car, sending us careening out of control.

My eyes met Robert's in a horrified gaze and for a moment we understood each other perfectly and we both were terrified.

Metal crunched, glass shattered and the world was spinning as the car flipped end over end, debris scattering across the road like fallen skittles as I was tossed about like a rag doll in the SUV.

My world was pain, exploding and blindingly white as my limbs whipped about without any control. My throat was sore from the screaming and I simply hurt.

Then, after an eternity of being torn apart, there was blissful non-movement and somehow I was still alive.

Concussed, bleeding and no doubt broken but still alive.

I wasn't sure how long I lay there for, face pressed against the roof of the car amongst the glass and… was that a piece of the dashboard?

My eyes registered blurry movement beyond the confines of the car, my ears registered sirens and crying and my body registered numbness slowly changing into a frigid coldness. My tongue felt heavy and I couldn't say anything, couldn't cry out and tell someone – anyone – that I was still there and that I was okay and God, I'm so sleepy, I just _really_ need a cup coffee right now.

I drifted off into the darkness and it felt good. There was no pain here and I felt so at peace as I simply floated. I sighed in relief. At least it didn't hurt anymore-

Electricity arced across my skin and my mouth opened in a silent scream. My heart thudded painfully in my chest for a spluttering few moments and I was aware of how heavy I was and I could feel something wrong despite the breath rattling inside of me. My eyes, which had opened for a split moment, made out the frantic yet composed faces of two uniformed paramedics hovering over me. Their lips were moving but I couldn't make out anything above the high pitched ringing in my ears.

Then the weight lifted and my eyes closed and I was floating once more.

I felt a few sporadic sparks but after, what felt like eternity of pain, I didn't want to go back there, to where it physically hurt and it was at that moment I knew I was dying.

Panic set in but I knew it was too late. I was too far gone to be saved.

The darkness seemed to glow and its fingers snagged me to pull me deeper and I couldn't do anything but let it.

I floated and felt a single tear escape my eye as I closed my lids for the last time. I still had so many regrets.

_Why… why did I have to die…?_

…_I… want to… live…_

…_Please… Help Me…_

…_please… God… anyone…_

…_help… me…_

_(0)_

'_Whoever said death was blissful and full of peace deserved a kick in the metaphoric balls and dick,'_ I decided as I floated. It wasn't so bad at first since, I spent so much time floating in nothingness that it was hard to feel anything at all. It was warm and comforting, like a hug from a parent or a heart-filled complement from a friend or lover, and it so blissful to just drift and not feel anything…

That was until the darkened space seemed to shrink more and more as _'time'_ went by until I could barely move; the walls constricted around me, squeezing and pulling and uncaring if I wanted to stay there or not.

There'd been no light at the end of the tunnel for me, simply an endless black that didn't really look, feel or smell like anything in particular. I'd thought I might have been sent to Hell or something, considering I didn't have the best track record when it came to being on my best behavior but the scenery – or lack thereof – didn't change.

It was still black.

It was still warm.

And I was fucking bored out of my mind.

But now it was suffocating and unbearably hot and I could feel it twisting and pulling and yanking and then the cold came. The difference was so sharp and painful I couldn't help but cry out. Then my senses came alive.

Well, almost all of them.

I could smell something comforting, feel something warm wrapping around me and it seeped into my bones, instantly calming me. I could hear a soft cooing sound that, weirdly, made my muscles limp with contentment.

But I couldn't see a damn thing. There was a sense of blurriness there, and for some reason I knew it shouldn't be there.

It should be bright and colorful and wonderful but it wasn't.

But I couldn't think about that right now. The warmth surrounding me disappeared and my body was lifted like a feather towards something else warm. I could smell salt and blood now, and hear sniffling.

_Crying?_ I thought but that thought soon fled as I realized how hollow I felt. I vaguely realized I was hungry and started to whimper, the cooing sound returning but this time deeper and more masculine.

I had no idea what was going on. Something rested in my palm and I curled my fingers around it, words being spoken softly around me and again I was passed over to something – no, _someone_ – who was warm and smelled familiar and good. I instinctively curled towards the scent, relaxing instantly.

As I enjoyed the warmth, I felt the vibration of a voice above me speaking to whoever was behind me in another language.

"_Isn't she precious Shikaku? She looks just like you, but with my mother's hair,"_ the voice said as I snuggled closer into the embrace.

The person behind her chuckled with a deep voice, _"You're right Yoshino. But damn, she has strange hair -Ow- troublesome woman why'd you hit me?" _Shikaku ended up whining.

As I started to fall asleep with the constant rhythm of the person's heart beat I laid on, I heard the person say harshly to the other man, _"Shut up Shikaku! I will not have you say bad words in front of my precious daughter you lazy ass."_

With those final words I fell asleep into Morpheus sweet embrace.

**[Nara Yoshino]**

Yoshino panted heavily as another contraction hit her and squeezed her husband's hand in pain.

_Hee-Hoo._

_Hee-Hoo._

_Hee-Hoo._

"That's it Nara-sama! Just one more push!" the Medic-Nin urged as she saw the head of the baby.

Yoshino sobbed and took a deep breath before she started to push once more. "Ugn! Get her out! _AHHHHHH!"_

With the final push, Yoshino felt her baby come out of her body. Yoshino sagged against the bed in relief, glad to have given birth after eighteen hours of contractions. The Medic-Nin turned around and with a nurse, cleaned of the placenta and blood off the new born. Wrapping the new baby, who was currently screaming and crying, in blankets, the Medic-Nin turned to the new mother and offered her the baby to hold.

"Nara-sama, would you like to hold your baby daughter?"

With a nod, Yoshino grabbed her baby girl and looked at her in awe. Her baby girl definitely looked like her husband. She had his nose, jaws, and check bones. If not for her hair and eyes, her baby would look like a carbon copy of her husband! Yoshino looked up from her baby and looked at her husband with joy, silently crying tears of happiness.

"Isn't she precious Shikaku? She looks just like you, but with my mother's hair,"

Shikaku came up next to his wife and looked at his daughter with love and joy. "You're right Yoshino. But damn, she has strange hair -Ow- troublesome woman why'd you hit me?" Shikaku ended up whining.

Yoshino frowned at her husband in annoyance, "Shut up Shikaku! I will not have you say bad words in front of my precious daughter you lazy ass." With a huff, Yoshino looked back at her precious daughter just in time for her to see her eyes before she yawned cutely and snuggled into her breasts more.

To Yoshino, her baby girl was the picture of perfection. Instead of the usual Nara hair style and color; brown and spikey; her daughter had inherited her family's hair color and style; Sea-foam green hair with falling curls already and ocean blue eyes. She had pale pink lips, a button nose, and high cheek bones. She fell instantly in love with her baby girl.

**[Nara Shikaku]**

Shikaku rubbed his arm wear his wife hit him and murmured 'troublesome' to himself. With a sigh and a small smile, Shikaku turned to his daughter and looked at her in delight and disbelief. Even now, with his daughter physically there, he could not believe that he actually had a child, a daughter at that.

But what he did have a hard time believing was that how strong his daughter's looks had come from his wife's side of the family. Instead of the typical Nara look, his daughter had favored his wife in hair and eye color. To him, this made his daughter even more precious than what she was before to them.

Shikaku took his hand and gently moved some hair from his daughter's cheek, marveling on how his daughter could already have hair right when she was born; it have been a Shīgurīn thing.

Looking up from his daughter, Shikaku looked at his wife, "So…what are we going to call her?"

He saw Yoshino hold their daughter closer to her and hum a small lullaby. "Hmmn, I was thinking Nara Haru, springtime. What do you think?"

Shikaku thought about it for a moment and rubbed his chin in contemplation. Looking at his daughter's appearance, noting that it looked like springtime grass agreed. "Sigh. Troublesome, its fine."

Both parents looked at their daughter and Yoshino smiled, "Yes, Nara Haru is an excellent name."

* * *

TBC...


End file.
